


Reminiscent

by Mae_Liz



Series: Bonds, Blades, and Blood [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Assassin's Creed: Rogue, Caring Haytham Kenway, Charles Lee Freaks Me Out, Haytham Kenway's A+ Parenting, I Have A Thing About Ships, Multi, Past Sexual Abuse, Shay Cormac Is A Gentleman, Slow Burn, The Actual Ones Made Of Wood, these boys travel so much and I can't keep up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-03-28 17:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13909062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mae_Liz/pseuds/Mae_Liz
Summary: An Assassin's Creed fan fic that answers the age old question:What would happen if someone made Haytham Kenway and his Templars raise a teenage girl?





	1. Fist Impressions

**London, England: 1758**

The first time Haytham saw Annabeth, she was nothing special. A gangly young thing in a patched dress, and born to meager parents. Whose mother was begging him to take her out of England.

“She’s a hard worker, Mr. Kenway.” The woman promised. “She’ll do you good as a maid or in a kitchen.”

It wasn’t an uncommon sight, unfortunately. With aristocrats moving to the New World, came parents who were quick to sell their sons and daughters. Times had changed. Too many children didn’t necessarily mean more help, especially when families couldn’t afford fields or the tools to sow them. It only meant more mouths to feed. A thing which more and more families couldn’t afford.

“It is illegal to sell one’s children into slavery, Mrs. hurley.” He reminded. “Even were it not, I have no interest in trading you coin for your own daughter.”

“I’m not after your gold, Sir. We’ve heard of people, got friends, who went over to work in the colonies. They do jobs for room and board, and then get to live their own life after a little while. Undented-”

“ _Indentured_ servitude, I’m aware of the practice. It does not change the fact that I am in no need of help. I’m sorry, but it simply isn’t possible.”

“Please, Mr. Kenway. Annabeth isn’t safe here.”

The curt admission drew a shocked expression from the girl. “Mother!”

“Mr. William Johnson said you might be able to help us. Might be able to take her away. Please, Sir.”

Haytham frowned. If he bent over backward for every poor man, woman, and child he came across , then he’d never get anything done within the Order. Still, it didn’t mean he had to be callous. If Johnson had sent this woman his way then it had to be for good reason.

“Do you know your way around a kitchen, girl?”

Annabeth shrugged, which wasn’t very promising. “I’m a fast learner.” She didn't have the unlearned accent of her mother, and he found it curious. 

“The ship leaves port in three days. I’ll fetch you then.”

“I’ll meet you at the docks, Mr. Kenway.”

“Annabeth, don’t be rude.”

Her mother’s scolding clearly didn’t mean much. “This man is going out of his way, already. There isn’t any reason for him to escort me.”

“The docks it is.” He agreed. “I’ll see you then, but if you’re late, you will be left behind.”

 

As it so happened, Annabeth was not late, but early. Haytham had stood in front of the _Venus_ for twenty minutes, keeping an eye out for the girl, when she popped up behind him.

“Good day, Mr. Kenway.”

“Ah, there you are.” When he turned around to see her walking down the gangplank, she was much more put together than he imagined she’d be. The clothes she wore were still of the working class, but remained a far throw from the ratty thing he’d seen her in before. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I’m sorry. You didn’t specify which ship or what time. So I got here a few hours ago and asked around.”

“It gave you time to settle in, I trust?”

“Yes, thank you. It was very kind of you to arrange quarters for me.”

“Of course…” Except Haytham hadn’t been able to manage such a thing. He had tried, but with the vessel being a trading ship, and it being such short notice, was informed that such accommodations didn’t exist. Kenway had, regrettably, planed to share his small lodgings with her. “I sent my luggage ahead, has it arrived?” It crossed his mind that two measly trunks could hardly be considered luggage. 

“It did. A boy delivered it not too long ago and I brought it to your cabin.” The girl smiled as they boarded and Haytham gave an impressed nod. Perhaps Annabeth _would_ be useful after all. 

“Haytham Kenway!” The captain slapped his back with a jolly boom. “You’re our last piece of cargo. Looks like we can weigh anchor early!”

“The sooner the better.”

“Aye. Time is money on a merchant ship, and I do believe this voyage will be quite the educational experience for your lass, there.” The seaman added with a nod toward Annabeth. She had excused herself from their conversation to head across deck.

“She’s not _mine_ , per se, Francis.” Haytham mused as he watched the girl lean against the railing and gaze up at the loosening sails.

“Why don’t you come see me once we’re in open water. Then we can discuss the girl.”

It was an invitation Kenway didn’t plan to pass up. He always liked to be more involved in his travels beyond that of a mere passenger, and meeting with Captain MacConell would give him a feel for the crew. So after an hour of clear skies and lapping waves, a knock fell at the captain’s door.

“Come in.” Francis looked up from his ledger and set his spectacles aside. “I thought it’d be you, Kenway. Take a seat. You’ll be on this heap for a good six weeks, might as well make yourself at home.”

“You think we’ll reach Virginia that quickly?” He asked while sinking into one of the chairs from across the large desk. Haytham didn’t doubt the man, but his trip to London had taken three months. A crossing back in half that time would be a blessing.

“There’s usually kind enough weather this time of year, and we aren’t carryin’ much that interests pirates. So, aye, we should reach port in no time.”

“ _Everything_ interests pirates.”

“Maybe. But we’ve got you here to fight ‘em off,” He half joked “and that wee one you dragged along to keep look out.” 

“I do appreciate you allowing her to join me, Francis. Her presence was highly unexpected. I’ll see to it that she stays out from underfoot.”

The captain held up a hand in protest. “There’s no need for all that. Little Miss Hurley is more than welcome aboard. You should have told me _she_ was the girl you were bringin’ along.”

“I wasn’t aware it mattered — Is that why she has her own cabin after all, because you know her?”

“Aye, though I’d hardly call the first mate’s quarters a cabin, more like a hole in the wall. Myself, Foster, and some of the crewman knew her father. He worked the docks for years, it’s a shame what happened what happened to the poor fool. We wanted his daughter to have some sort of comfort and privacy for the trip.”

“Did he pass on?”

“Not but a few months ago. Poor girl’s been through more that this year. Much more, though it’s not my place to say what.”

 

For a recently fatherless child, Annabeth got on quite well, and settled into ship-life like a regular sailor. Haytham noticed that, while she didn’t keep her distance, she didn't actively seek him out either. She hardly pursued anyone's company, really. Not even Captain MacConell’s. Granted, she’d be pleasant and friendly toward any of the men that crossed paths with her, but her endless idle hours were spent reading, writing, or looking out at the open ocean. Unless the first mate was above deck.

Christian Foster was a notably young man that could easily be mistaken for a greenhorn were it not for his place at the helm or the captain’s side. Whenever he was on duty, Annabeth would seek him out like a bloodhound. Spending the hours reading aloud to him, or asking questions about the _Venus_. It was on such an occasion, that Kenway found them both at the wheel. Christian, steering them through serene waters, and her, leisurely telling him which types of clouds were above them; as few as there were.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Foster. How goes our travels?”

“Well, Sir. Nine knots and holding.”

“That’s seventeen kilometers per hour.” The girl chimed and the first mate laughed a bit.

“Very good, Anna.”

“You’re quite the smart young lady.”

Haytham’s praise only earned a scoff from the child. “You’ve met my mum, Mr. Kenway. I’m hardly a lady.”

“Oy! Your mother is a gracious woman, Annabeth Hurley. Don’t you go bad-mouthing your parentage just ‘cause she ain’t here.” The scolding had Haytham stifling a chuckle, but sent the girl walking off with an eye roll.

“I never got the chance to thank you for giving up your quarters to her. It was very generous.”

“Any one of the men would have done the same. Poor lass deserves some kindness in this world. The type with no strings attached.”

“She seems to be a fan of yours.”

“That she is. I grew up with her brother. They Hurley’s were a second family to me, and I was as heart-broke as she was when Rowan died. He was five years older than her, and at sea most times, but they were thick as thieves, those two.” Christian explained sadly. “Never quite saw a brother and sister get on like they did.”

“Captain MacConell told me it was her _father_ who died.”

“Aye, not long after Rowan. I meant what I said about Mrs. Hurley being gracious. I never met a kinder woman, but I’m surprised Olivia had enough wits about her to secure Anna a trip across the Atlantic; with everything they’ve been through. Especially with someone as upstanding as yourself, Mr. Kenway.”

The more he learned, the more perplexing she became. A girl who was born to a lower-class family but spoke like a gentlewoman, and who had lost her father and brother. All at the age of fourteen. Not to mention how her mother somehow knew knew Mr. Johnson, and thought it unsafe in London. Haytham was sure there was more to it. Some final pieces that tied everything together. But he remained unprying. As friendly as Annabeth was, he knew asking about such sensitive topics right out of the blue would only distance her.

 

“Did you have a job back in London?” He asked harmlessly one warm night. Joining Annabeth as he she leaned on the railing beside the bowsprit.

“No.”

“Oh? Did you help your mother around the house, then?”

“Not as much as I should have, I’m afraid.”

“I see. Mrs. Hurley made it sound as though you've had experience in managing a home. I do hope I haven’t been conned.”

“And if you were, what would you do? Throw me overboard?” She jested with a small laugh. “We’re nearly halfway to Virginia. It’s not as if you can turn the ship around and deposit me back in London.”

“And how do you think you’d fair were I to leave you at port? Penniless with nowhere to go.” It wasn’t a threat, simply the truth. Once they arrived, Haytham would be the only one she knew. Save for the crew, who would not be staying long at all. 

“I’d manage well enough.” She was disappointed that he didn’t find her teasing to be amusing. “But you haven't been duped, Mr. Kenway. My mother was right, I can be helpful. With direction and practice. Back ho- Back in London, I focused more on my schooling than domestic duties.”

“So you _are_ educated.”

“I never said otherwise, only that I wasn’t a _lady_. Literacy does not make one highborn.”

“Perhaps not, but it certainly helps.” He muttered. “Had you hoped to continue your studies in Virginia?”

“I’ve hoped nothing past arriving safely. Whether or not I see any schooling is up to you.”

“Yes, I suppose it is. Would you _like_ to carry on with your studies?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not my instructor would be like the one I had before.”

“What was your teacher in England like?”

Annabeth regarded him with a soft, but untelling smile. “Goodnight, Mr. Kenway.” She bid, taking her leave rather abruptly and heading below deck. It left the man with still more questions than answers.

 

“Have you seen Annabeth anywhere?”

It was been bad enough the girl avoided him for several days after the series of innocent questions, but not seeing her _at all_ on the fourth day made Haytham worry. There were only so many places a teenage girl could truly hide aboard a ship. None of which put him at ease. It only concerned him more that she wasn’t with Christian.

“Aye, Miss Hurley’s aloft.”

“Aloft?”

“Aye.” The first mate repeated before pointing just ahead. “Main-lower yard. It’s not that high, but she was itching for a climb. Levitt’s up as well keeping an eye on her.”

It was comforting to know that at least another crewman was with her, but not comforting enough. The last thing Kenway needed was her injured, and he could imagine her precariously perched on the crossbar as he marched to the mainmast. In actuality she was sat blissfully upon the lower most spar. Watching the distant water while Mr. Levitt tended some ropes a few feet away.

He could have just called up to her, the distance was small enough and the wind quiet; but didn't want to risk her scrambling ever upward. She was a child, after all. Instead, he pulled himself into the shrouds and skillfully climbed to her level.

“Oh, hello Mr. Kenway.” Annabeth said cheerily when he entered her line of sight. She watched as he stepped onto the yard with more self assurance than she had managed. “I didn’t know you knew your way around rigging.”

“My father was a captain.” He said simply, and wondered if she’d have chosen a different hideaway had she known. ”You on the other hand — What do you think you’re doing up here?” He took stock of her. “Are you wearing trousers?”

“Couldn’t let her amble around in a skirt.” Levitt mumbled gruffly as he tightened a knot.”

“Attire aside, I think it best you stay on deck.”

“What? Why?”

“It can be dangerous in the sails.” Haytham explained and she exhaled sharply.

“The wind’s steady. Sky’s clear. Unless a gull comes and pushes me off, I’ll be just fine.”

“Annabeth.”

“Please? I’ll be really careful. I am being careful.” She sighed. “I feel… It’s less lonely up here.”

Kenway hummed knowingly and walked closer to her before sitting with one foot dangling from the crossbar. “You feel closer to your brother up here.” The glare he received told him he was right.

“How do you know about Rowan?”

“Mr. Foster told me.”

“Christian?” Annabeth peered around the mizzenmast to scowl at the unsuspecting helmsman. “That no good, loose lipped, basta-”

“He’s only concerned for you.”

“Doesn’t give him any right to tell you about my business.”

“Seeing as it’s my job to look after you now, I would say it does.” The girl frowned and turned away. “Captain MacConnell told me about your father as well.”

“Bloody brilliant!” She snapped and maneuvered to face him again. “This damn crew is so lax-tongued that you’ll know my whole life story before we see land.”

“I doubt it. They aren't _that_ forthcoming.” He joked and she rolled her eyes. “Of course, _you_ could always tell me your life story.”

“Why would I do that, because you’re _looking after me_?”

“I like to think that, perhaps, you and I could be at least somewhat amicable with one another.”

“No offense, Mr. Kenway, but the last man I blindly believed to be my friend had my brother killed. Then my father. I have a history with the crew aboard this ship, but I barely know you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ship, its captain, and its crew, are completely fucking made up. How does Haytham know captain MacConnell? No idea. Tell me why _you_ think they know each other.


	2. Sign On The Dotted Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr [@maelizwriting](https://maelizwriting.tumblr.com/) to see when I update my fics and so I can follow you!

Barely knowing him meant little when Annabeth had no one else to turn to. As close as she was with some of the crew aboard the _Venus_ , they weren’t always available. Something Haytham realized when a knock came to his door in the wee hours of the night.

He and the girl hadn’t spoken much at all since their fleeting conversation amongst the sails a week prior. So when he opened the door it was shocking to see her standing in the tight hallway, clutching her pillow and wearing only her nightclothes.

“Can I help you? It’s rather late.”

“I can’t sleep.” She said almost reluctantly.

“Have you tried reading a book?”

“I. Can’t. Sleep.”

“Yes, you’ve said that.”

With a shallow sigh she glanced down the hallway nervously. As if watching out for someone. “May I come in?” Instead of answering, the man stepped back with a welcoming arm, and she quickly entered. “I had a nightmare.” The girl explained as he closed the door.

Haytham’s mind went blank. He had no idea how he was supposed to soothe her; no clue as to what to say. The choppy, ‘it was only a dream’ that came out of his mouth did little to pacify her.

“I know it was just a dream. But I saw his eyes — I saw them _everywhere_ on my walk over here.”

The Grand Master didn’t need to ask to know that Annabeth meant the eyes of the man she believed responsible for the death of her brother and father. “It was a figment. You know everyone on board, no one here would harm you.” He feared he still wasn’t helping. “Would you like me to escort you back to your room?”

“No! No, not yet. I… I just need a few minutes.” She looked around the cramped quarters and realized that, in addition to the lit lamp and open journal, Kenway was not dressed down in the slightest. The only things missing were his overcoat and hat. Both of which were slung across the cot. Even his boots were still on. “Are you not sleeping either?”

“My lack of rest is by choice.”

“Are you journaling the trip?”

He snatched up the notebook before she could become too interested in it. “I’m writing letters that must be sent once we reach port.” Letters he wished to resume writing. “How best shall we solve your problem?”

“Problem?”

“A growing girl needs her sleep.”

Annabeth gave a look of understanding with a shrug. “I don’t know. I haven’t really had nightmares since I was young.”

“You are young.”

“Oh, you know what I mean.” She waved off his jest and leaned over the tiny desk to look out the porthole. “It’s beautiful outside.”

All at once, the Templar was struck with an idea. He grabbed the discarded articles and put on his tricorn. “Come with me.” He urged while wrapping the coat around her shoulders. “I think I know what may help.”

The girl stumbled over her own stockinged feet as she was led out of the cabin and above deck. She pulled the overcoat tighter around her as a shield against the chill, but marveled at the sky. There had been some late evenings where Annabeth had taken to stargazing, though on this night they seemed brighter. More magnificent. 

“It’s amazing.”

“Indeed it is.” Haytham agreed and fussed with a coil of rope, only to throw her pillow down on it so that the pile might be more comfortable. “They always look better when it’s a new moon.” He sat down on the heap while she kept staring at the heavens. 

“No wonder Rowan enjoyed being at sea so much.” She said with a twinge of sorrow and ran her fingers along the rail. The smooth wood was damper in the cool night air than during the day. “I never really understood it until we set sail.”

“Have you not been on the ocean before?”

“It’s a silly thing, isn’t it? To have a dockhand as a father, and a sailor for a brother, and to have never been out of port before. Now I’m crossing the Atlantic and they’re both dead.”

The grief in her voice was unsettling, and the Grand Master didn’t know what to say. “They’d want you to get some decent rest.”

“Would they?” She laughed and flopped down beside him, unable to see his surprised expression in the dark. “Or would they let me stay up and let me look at the stars?”

“Cheeky.”

Annabeth giggled and turned the collar of his coat up around her ears. She swam in the thing. With the way she usually spoke and carried herself, it was sometimes easy to forget that she was so young. That he had taken in a _child_.

The thought was enough to make Haytham panic, really. He didn’t know the first thing about raising an adolescent, but realized his own upbringing was not the model to go by. Dumping Annabeth on the maids, or the cook, and letting them teach her would be easy enough. Surely that’s what she expected him to do. To let the social status of her birth dictate her value. It had been agreed upon when they met. Except he saw so much _potential_ in the girl, and that was a thing which Haytham hated to squander.

Still, he had the Templar Order to see to. As newly appointed Grant Master of the Colonial Rite, he had more responsibilities than ever before. Responsibilities which would not allow him to be constantly present so as to provide guidance. Perhaps it _would_ be best to make her the cook’s problem. 

He was torn from the misery of it all when Annabeth leaned against his arm with a tired yawn and asked: “Which one is the north star?” 

 

The last thing she remembered was being above deck, with Kenway _trying_ to show her how the constellation Lupus looked like a wolf. Which made it all the more discombobulating for Annabeth when she woke up in her own bunk. The room was small, but so was she, and she was able to stretch properly and recollect herself once she stood up.

As much as she loved being on the _Venus_ , the girl found herself longing for them to reach port. Not because she was sick of the sea, but rather because she ached for the things which only land could offer. Free flowing fresh water. Unrationed food. The ability to do laundry _properly_.

It was day 32 of an estimated 42 day journey, and she had already cycled through what little clothes she could pack several times over. Seven outfits had been squeezed into her suitcase, as well as other essentials, and she had worn six of them on rotation. Annabeth cleaned them the best she could, but the lingering salt made them stiff and rather unpleasant to wear. The only unworn ensemble was the closest thing she had to a gown and it was being saved for when they reached Jamestown. Which meant one of the other drab pieces would have to do. So she pulled on a green skirt, buttoned down a tan blouse, tucked it in, then left to enjoy the sunshine.

“Sleeping Beauty rises!” Christian teased when she made her way to the helm and it drew a reluctant smile from the girl.

“How late is it?”

“Late enough. You missed breakfast, but Mr. Kenway said that we shouldn't disturb you.”

She’d never admit it, but Annabeth appreciated the gesture. She needed the rest. “Where is he?”

“With the captain. For quite a while now, too.”

Haytham and Francis had been friendly since they boarded, and she wondered how they knew each other. It was obvious MacConnell was well traveled and the girl had a feeling that the Templar was as well. Perhaps they had sailed together in the past.

 

Almost an hour passed before the door to the captain’s cabin opened. Only for Haytham to step out and look around.

“Ah! There you are.” He said when he spotted Annabeth beside the first mate. “Come here, the captain and I have something to discuss with you.”

For whatever reason, the ambiguity of such a thing sent butterflies to her stomach and she looked up at Christian. Hoping the sailor would be able to offer some insight.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, lass.” He reassured her. Not that it did anything to help her nerves.

When she headed down the steps, Haytham wore his usual friendly but unreadable expression, and it only made her more uneasy.

“I’m aware of your rather regrettable situation, Miss Hurley.” Captain MacConnell began once she took a seat and the door was closed. “And I agree with your mum, and Foster, that it’s safer for you in Virginia, but I also think this business of yours with Mr.Kenway needs to be done right.”

“Right?” She glanced back at Haytham for a moment. “I don’t understand.”

“Captain MacConnell thinks it would be best if a contract put in place.” The Grand Master explained as he crossed the room to join them. “As do I.”

“A contract…” She repeated; mulling it over in her head. It made sense, she knew. All of the people her mother had talked to said the same thing: ‘Get it in writing _before_ you leave.’ Olivia Hurley had just been so desperate to get her daughter out of harm’s way that she didn’t worry about it. 

When she didn’t say anything further, Haytham continued to clarify. “To outline your responsibilities while in my service, as well as my responsibilities to _you_ as your employer.”

“It’s to protect you, Beth.” Francis added in a somber tone that again had Kenway wondering what piece he was missing of the girl’s puzzle.

“I understand what it’s for. I simply… Forgot about it, I suppose?” She shrugged her left shoulder with indifference as she spoke. “Anyway, I imagine this means you have one written up.” Neither of the men said anything further and the captain reached across to hand her a small stack of papers.

It was shorter than she imagined a contract would be. Five or so pages that were remarkably blunt. There were no extra words or unnecessary phrases, just a straightforward record of what would be best for both parties.

Haytham would provide her with a way of life no less that which she was used to in London, as well as protection. Should it be necessary. There was even a short paragraph where it outlined how _‘Mr. Kenway shall exercise an appropriate amount of patience in light of Miss Hurley’s young age.’_ The provision was no doubt insisted upon by the captain, and it made Annabeth smile.

All she had to do was work within her means to help care for his property and, much to her hidden delight, adhere to the educational curriculum that would be put in place. A tutor for which would be hired, of the Grand Master’s choosing, within thirty days of their arrival at the Kenway estate. The girl could think of worse ways to spend her teenage years.

“Five years is the average.” Captain MacConnell commented when she began to reach the final pages; knowing full well the writing indicated longer.

Annabeth shook her head in a small protest. “Seven is fine. Mr. Kenway was nearly _forced_ into this by my mother, after all.” She was impressed to find a salary portion on the last page explaining how she’d be granted 30£ per month to ensure she would not be destitute when the contract expired.

“You find it to be agreeable?” Francis asked when she handed back the draft wordlessly

In honesty she found it more than agreeable. Except for one thing. “I want it written that the tutor will be a woman.”

“It may prove rather difficult to find a female instructor with adequate education.” Haytham told her.

“Then extend it to sixty days, if you must, not thirty. I cannot…” She trailed off to stop the shake in her voice. “The teacher _must_ be a woman, or I’d rather have no lessons at all. _Please_.”

The men exchanged concerned glances before the Templar sighed. “So be it.” He waved his hand dismissively and MacConnell straightened the papers.

“Very good, a final copy will be penned and signed before we dock. However, I would like to discuss some matters with the lass in private.”

Haytham looked from the captain, to Annabeth, and back again before standing. “Yes, of course.”

“You don’t have to do this, Beth.” Francis said the moment the man was gone. “I have friends in the colonies, as does Mr. Foster. You can contract with a different family.”

A _lower-status_ family, he meant, and the girl knew it. A family that she’d fit in with. The type she was used to. Her sponsor wasn’t necessarily outlandish, but he definitely stood out in ways only an aristocrat could.

“Your concern is noted, Captain, and appreciated. But I’ll be alright. Mr. Kenway seems a decent man.”

“I’m not saying he isn’t.”

“I told my mother that I’d go with him if he’d take me, and here I am. I can’t go back on that promise now. Still, I’m indebted to you. You didn’t have to negotiate me a salary. Or urge him to be _patient_.” She laughed lightly at the oddness of such a clause.

“Aye, I care for you, lass, but I didn’t have to push for those things.” The man explained and leaned back into his chair. “He brought up how trying you can be, and wanted something to keep him respectable, I suppose. Told me you gave him a bit of a headache when you went climbing up the mainmast.” The expression he gave was more complimentary than scolding. “As for the wages, I only mentioned ‘em in passing and Mr. Kenway agreed entirely. Said it’d be a waste of your brains if he left you poor.” There was a heavy silence between them before he spoke again. “You’re sure you’ll be fine?”

“Yes, Francis, thank you.”

“Your father would be proud of you, you know. Your brother too.”

She managed a small smile. A sad smile. “I can only hope so.” 

 

“Thank you for allowing me to continue my lessons.” Annabeth said when she found Haytham admiring the sunset from the bow that evening. Both of them seemed to enjoy seafaring best when at the front of the ship. The wind was rougher and the ocean spray was unforgiving, but there was something serene about it. Something otherworldly. “Though it’s awfully generous, you do not have to.”

“I’d say I do, actually.” He insisted gently. “The mind is a terrible thing to waste, Annabeth.”

“ _Anna_.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Anna.” She repeated with a soft expression. “My whole name is somewhat of a mouthful. Call me Anna.”

“Anna it is, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it always kind of irked me that we have so many people sailing around in the games, and it's not really touched upon how difficult traveling can be when you've got such a limited way of doing things, So, even though it's in passing, I wanted to mention how kind of awful it is to be at sea for a month or more when you can't wash your clothes as frequently as you would like, or wash with fresh water, and you can only pack very limited things. Especially as a teenage girl who's never sailed before. I was gracious and gave Annabeth seven sets of clothes in one suitcase, but still...
> 
> Tell me what you guys think of this story so far! Tell me how you feel about Annabeth, tell me how you feel about my depiction of Haytham, and I promise more Templar's will be involved soon.
> 
> I added a 'date stamp' at the beginning of Chapter One that way it's clear when this all is happening in Haytham's timeline.


	3. Trouble In Paradise

Annabeth realized almost too late in the voyage that she wanted to record what it was like to live on the _Venus_. She wanted to write down how the days were warmer than she imagined they would be and how the nights were significantly colder. She wanted to remember the openness of the horizon and how it felt to be the only people in the world. She wanted to tell her mother that the shining sun reminded her of Rowan and the steady waves made her miss her father. She wanted to tell her mother that she was safe, and that Mr. Kenway was just as Mr. Johnson said he’d be. A gentleman.

Though, it wasn't too late, not yet, and on the 35th day she put her daydream filled writings about mermaids and sailors and stars aside to jot down down everything she could remember since leaving port. It felt nice to put her experiences on paper, and she wrote as if speaking to what few friends she had left behind in London.

_“The sails are as white as the clouds and there isn’t anything to see for miles.”_ She penned. _“If this is what it was like for Noah on the ark, I’m surprised he ever wanted to see dry land again. The water is so much grayer than you’d ever think it could be with the sky being so blue, but it smells refreshing. Cleaner and crisper than the harbor could ever hope to be.”_ She dipped her quill back into the inkwell, and when she pressed the tip to her paper, a sudden lurch of the ship sent a harsh line skittering about the page.

A second vessel had appeared out of nowhere but gave the _Venus_ a wide berth; respecting the brig’s greater size. There wasn't necessarily any harm in coming across another ship at sea, the world was only so big after all, unless one of those ships changed its colors. The small cutter could maneuver far more precisely than other ships, and before anyone on board the _Venus_ could recognize its change in course or the rise of skull and crossbones, the little ship was headed straight for the starboard side of their hull. 

After a month of peaceful sailing, and being so close to the destination, the threat of pirates was unexpected and the crew was unprepared for such an abrupt attack. In an attempt to dodge the ramming, Christian threw the wheel and turned the brig harshly portside but it did little to deflect the blow. The cutthroats were not amateurs, and the moment their bow landed against the side of the _Venus_ , the plundering vessel was attached to the larger one with grappling hooks. 

Several of MacConnell’s crewman had gone below to man the cannons with the hope of blasting the invaders to high hell, but there simply wasn’t enough distance between the two ships to land proper blows. The abrupt lean of the _Venus_ , as well as the sounds of shouting and shots, had lured Anna above deck and she froze upon discovering the chaos.

The girl couldn't see the offending cutter with how dwarfed it was in size but she could see its crew. Over a dozen strangers were shooting at, and grappling with her friends. Indiscriminately filling the air with smoke and screams. Amidst it all, she spotted a familiar navy overcoat dancing through the pandemonium just in time to see its owner finish off the blaggard rushing towards her. 

From his place by the mainmast, Haytham managed to put a bullet into the would-be assailant, and the pirate fell lifelessly at the young woman’s feet. The dead man’s blood splattered against Annabeth’s skin, but it didn’t seem to register with her.

“Get below deck!” Kenway commanded in a yell and began to make his way to her. The few that obstructed his path were either shoved aside or sliced into. “Now!” He was only a few steps from her when one of the attackers swiped at him from behind, and Haytham quickly turned to cross swords with the devil; looking more fed up with the attempted raid than anything. “Mr. Foster!”

“I’m a bit busy at the moment, Mr. Kenway!” The first mate hollered as he dueled nearby. Trying to get the upper hand against the pirate he was fighting. Anna could hear Christian but didn’t look towards him, and she jumped when his pistol went off. “Come on.” The sailor urged as he holstered his gun and grabbed her hand.

While she was being dragged below deck she looked over her shoulder to see Haytham still battling the same pirate. In one swift motion, the Templar grabbed the other man's face in his palm, and Annabeth swore she saw a blade jump from her sponsor’s wrist into the cutthroat’s skull just before the fighting left her line of sight.

Christian brought her through the crew’s quarters, below the ration storage, and into the cargo holds. Being so far within the hull meant everything was pitch black and it was amazing how the first mate knew his around while being virtually blind.

“You _need_ to stay here, Anna.” He said and nestled the girl between stacks of crates. “Don’t come out. No matter what happens, no matter what you hear — stay _hidden_.” The man pressed a weapon into her grasp and she could feel a lump forming in her throat.

“Christian, I-I can’t, I-”

“You _must_.” When the sound of his footfalls proved he was leaving, Annabeth’s fear fully caught up with her and she could feel the stickiness of the blood sprayed against her face. 

She inspected her only means of defense with trembling hands. It was as small dagger and she unsheathed it half way before slamming the cover back down around the blade and hugging her knees closer to her chest. Even from the belly of the ship the fighting was audible, and the way everything echoed off the _Venus’_ ribs was ghastly. 

The sound of men running around on the decks above sounded like thunder, and cannon shots seemed as if the world were being split in two. Volleys of gunfire preceded a quaking explosion, and then there was _silence_. Nothing but an eerie quietness which proved more deafening than the battle could have ever been. 

Anna wondered which side had lost and what would happen to to her is the pirates seized the _Venus_. She wondered what would happen if they _destroyed_ it. Worse still was if MacConnell’s men came out the victors but Christian had died. The girl wasn't sure she could bear such a loss. Mr. Foster was one of the last people she had left and finishing the crossing without him would be heart wrenching.

A creaking hatch tore her away from her thoughts, and the shadows that bounced about made it clear that whoever came to investigate didn’t know the hold well and needed a lantern to assist them. Annabeth tucked herself further into the cargo and unsheathed the knife. She would not surrender easily. Not for the second time in her life.

When the crates in front of her were pushed aside, the girl sprung up and swiped at the intruder with her blade. The steel did not meet flesh nor clothing, and was instead knocked out of her hand with little effort. She was uneducated in the ways of combat and it showed. Anna’s eyes adjusted to the light in time with her unsteady breaths, and when she fully saw who had disarmed her so smoothly she sunk to the floor in a pile of anxiety and tears. The man holding the oil lamp was none other that Mr. Haytham Kenway, and he knelt beside her to offer a handkerchief. 

“Are you alright?” He asked once her sobs had stopped. He touched his fingers to her cheek with a frown and she saw the red against his skin when he withdrew them.

“Y-Yes.” She managed with a sniffle. “It’s not my blood.” The realization that it was Haytham who had come to get her, instead of the man which had stashed her away, hit Annabeth like punch to the stomach. “Is Christian okay? Did something _happen_ to him? Is he…” She couldn't bring herself to voice the possibility. _Is_ he?” 

“Mr. Foster is just fine. He’s helping Captain MacConnell get things back in order.”

“And the crew? Are they…” She forced herself to take a deep inhale. “How many were killed?”

Haytham knew there was no sense in sugar-coating the truth, even if he did she’d see through it. The girl was young, not dim-witted. “We are down five men, including Mr. Levitt.” He explained. “The barbarians lost all 18 of theirs.”

It wasn’t such a bad casualty rate considering the pirates had half a dozen more deckhands. Kenway put the _Venus’_ fighting power at thirteen men, and loosing so few of such a small defense count was fortunate. Still, Levitt had been kind to Annabeth, and she would mourn his death.

“‘What did they want?”

“They were _pirates._ ” The Templar scoffed. “They want whatever they can get their hands on. They would have taken _you_ had Mr. Foster not brought you down here.”

Shame washed over the girl as she remembered the way she seized up like a hog willing to be slaughtered; how her body had remained cemented in place despite Haytham shouting at her to _move_. There was no knowing what would have happened if he missed the shot earlier or if Christian hadn't been able to get to her. Would the raiders have killed her? Would they have done worse?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-I couldn’t-I don’t know what was wrong with me.” She stammered and the Grand Master shushed her.

“You were frightened.” He said plainly. Gingerly. In a way that made it clear that he didn’t blame her. Though it didn’t stop Anna from finding fault with herself. “But now that’s over, I think it best you return to your cabin.” He stood and offered a hand to help her up. “I’ll walk you there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was (kind of) practice for writing action scenes. I have no beta for this piece so feel to critique me!


	4. Welcome Home

Much to Haytham’s relief, Annabeth’s nightmares while aboard the _Venus_ proved to be a singular occurrence. Even after the pirate attack, the girl quickly recovered and was back to her usual bubbly self. Which was a blessing on its own, seeing as the Grand Master had no clue how to comfort a child after such a trauma. Still, her antics were unappreciated once they arrived at Jamestown. 

The _Venus_ had reached port only two days behind schedule and the moment the anchor was dropped, Anna had locked herself away in her cabin. Her absence was a cause of frustration for Hyatham because not only was someone already waiting for him in town, but it took no time at all to ready a carriage and haul his trunks off the ship. Making her the thing stalling their departure.

“Is Anna _still_ below deck?” He sighed as he walked up the gangplank and met with Mr. Foster, who was taking stock of the ship.

“Anna?” Christian repeated with a half smile. “The lass took to ya quickly, didn't she?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Little Miss Hurley’s a strange one, she is. Only let’s those she thinks of as friends call her Anna. Everyone one else she makes call her Beth.”

“Do you have to give away _all_ my secrets, Christian?” The girl asked as she joined them and Haytham impatiently turned to face her. 

“ _There_ you are. Finally we can be off.” He took her suitcase from her and Anna nervously picked at the seams of her clean blue dress.

“I just… I just need one more minute.”

Kenway exhaled heavily and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “So be it, but don’t be too long. The carriage is waiting.” He said before biding the first mate goodbye and making his way back down to the dock.

Once he was a good distance away, Anna looked up at her friend with misted eyes. “I’m scared, Christian…” She choked. “I-I was fine for the entire trip, but now we’re here and I’m scared.”

“Oh girl, there ain’t nothing to be afraid of.” He wrapped her in a hug. “Mr. Kenway’s a good man, he’ll-”

“I’m not afraid of _him_ , I’m afraid of being _here_.” She interrupted and pulled out of the soothing embrace. “It’s so much different than London.”

“Aye, that it is, but it’s a good different. Once you step off this ship everything’s an adventure.”

“I think I’ve had enough adventure…”

“We both know that’s not true. You’re Rowan’s sister, and that means you’ve got his blood and his bravery. You can’t let something like a new place send you runnin’.”

She swallowed thickly with an understanding nod and fished a wad of papers out of her pocket. “If you see my mum when you go back, can you give these to her?” She pressed the stack of letters into his hand. “They’re about the trip. I left out the part about the pirates, though. I don’t want her to worry.”

“Miss Hurley!” Haytham could be heard calling for her from the street and Christian laughed lightly. 

“Of course I will. Now you’d best be off before Mr. Kenway’s brains start to leak out of his ears.”

“I’m going to miss you.” She whimpered with a sniff and hugged the sailor again. Tighter this time.

“And I you. You’re a tough girl, Anna, don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.” 

Stepping onto dry land was simultaneously comforting and overwhelming, but she was given no time to dwell on it because the moment she set foot on the cobblestone, Haytham had the carriage door open and was urging her inside.

“This is my associate, Charles Lee.” The Grand Master introduced after she had sat across from the man, and all at once Annabeth felt sick. The stranger was amicable enough and offered a polite smile, but his eyes made her feet numb and her fingers cold. Surely if she had stayed on the _Venus_ , Captain MacConnell and his men could have taught her to sail and she’d never be made to see those ghastly eyes ever again. “Charles, this is the young woman I told you about.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hurley.” Lee tipped his head to her as his commander settled in the carriage, and he looked at her curiously. Haytham _had_ told him about her after they found each other in Jamestown, but the girl had been described as educated, determined, and headstrong. He found it hard to believe those words fit the shy creature sat before him. 

However she most certainly _was_ a girl of 14 just as Kenway said, and it seemed dreadful that someone so young had not only left her family on the other side of the Atlantic, but signed an employment contract so that she might work for a virtual stranger. 

A meager “Likewise” was all Anna managed in response while she scootched over. Having Haytham so close to her felt awkward and uncomfortable, but it was better than the alternative. She absolutely could not sit beside Mr. Lee and at least having her sponsor next to her granted a sense of protection from the lower ranking templar.

With a crack of the horses whip, the carriage was off and the conversation quickly turned to what Annabeth assumed to business. The gentlemen began talking about letters that had been sent and received, and discussed other men they seemed to know; so she tuned it out. True, the girl didn’t know _what_ Haytham Kenway did for work that allowed him to travel and hire someone on a whim, but she didn’t care. She was only interested in getting of the carriage and away from Charles. 

Yet there was little she could actually do to distance herself from the man and so she let her mind wander. Thankfully the chosen mode of transit had windows and it allowed Anna to visually explore her new homeland. The _people_ in the Virginia Colony didn’t look so different from those in London, but the buildings were smaller and the air seemed crisper. And once Jamestown was behind them, there were so many trees. The beauty of the New World set a peace into the girl and she found herself surprisingly at ease. Perhaps Christian had been right, things wouldn't be so bad afterall.

 

She had no idea how long they traveled before reaching Haytham’s estate and the size of it left her speechless. It was hard to believe that one man needed such a large house, but the girl reasoned that extravagance was one of the perks of being an aristocrat. 

When they walked through the front door, the trio was greeted by Mrs. Milford. A stickler of an old woman and the steward of the manor, whom Anna found to be terrible with first impressions.

“It’ll take a little while to get a room made up for her in the servants house, Master Kenway.” Were the first words the woman spoke after Haytham introduced Annabeth and explained the situation. “I was unaware you would be returning from England with new staff.”

“Yes, well it was rather unexpected.” He said with a passive wave of the hand. “Don’t trouble yourself for now, just show Miss Hurley to one of the guest rooms so that she can get settled in.”

“A guest room?”

“That _is_ what I said.”

Mrs. Milford clearly wanted to argue the decision, but chose not to for whatever reason, and Annabeth flopped down on the featherbed once she was escorted up to her quarters. The softness was a welcome change after the hard cot she’d slept on for the past month.

“Get yourself cleaned up and then head back downstairs.” The old stewardess ordered before closing the door, and Anna sighed. It felt like a dream — being in such a comfortable room within a beautiful house — but she couldn’t let herself believe this to be some holiday. She was not a princess and this was not a castle. She had rescued herself by agreeing to work for Mr. Kenway, and thus it was best she did as instructed.

Looking at herself in the standing mirror made her frown. The freckles that had splashed themselves across her face during the voyage did not bother her, but the sunburn did. Her nose and cheeks were red and tender, and the tops of her arms were pink. She could only imagine how much worse it would have been if Christian and Haytham both hadn’t insisted she cover up when above deck. 

Even more unfortunate was the state of her hair. The thick locks were course with salt and when she ran her fingers through them they felt cringingly brittle. After finding that braiding them was the best momentary option, the girl vowed to take a long and proper bath that evening; thankful that her dress remained unmussed after the long carriage ride.

By the time she rejoined the small collection of adults, they were still in the foyer, and Haytham delivered a piece of news that soured her mood.

“You’re leaving!?” Annabeth hadn’t meant it to sound so rude, but at least her displeasure had been made clear. 

“Only for a few days. There is something I must see to in New York.” The Grand Master explained. “Mrs. Milford will look after you in the meantime, and the search for your tutor will begin upon my return.”

“It’s not the ‘looking after’ I’m worried about, I’m not four.” The bitterness in her voice disguised the underlying panic and she was thankful for it. Haytham was the only person she knew on the entire continent and she was rather unhinged at the thought of being surrounded by strangers. “We _just_ got here.”

“I am well aware of that, but traveling is unavoidable in my line of work. And frankly, Annabeth, it does not concern you. _I_ am the employer, and I will leave when I wish to leave.”

Haytham was tired and irritable, and as he spoke with a set jaw and fought to keep his patience his second in command began to see the ‘trying young woman’ he had described. Though Lee viewed the girl’s outburst as foolish, and it was his eeriness that made Anna accept the situation and step away from the argument. She wanted him gone. If that meant her new friend took his leave as well, then so be it.

“Of course, how unthoughtful of me. I do hope you have a safe journey, _Master Kenway_.” The title that Mrs. Milford previously used dripped off of the teenager’s lips like acid, and she quickly retreated back up the stairs.

Haytham, having watched her dramatic exit with an exasperated groan, patted the stewardess on her shoulder. “Good luck, Jane.” He muttered before fixing his hat and heading out the door with Charles at his heels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotional teenagers will act like emotional teenagers no matter what time period they are in.


	5. A Monster Among Men

By all accounts, Haytham wasn’t gone for very long. Perhaps a week at most. Mainly because as Annabeth pointed out, they _had_ just arrived in the colonies. The property he owned in Virginia was newly purchased and he wanted to enjoy it before diving headfirst into templar matters as the new Grand Master. It was for that reason that he had negotiated himself passage to Greenwich, and back, by sea rather than the stagecoach Charles had acquired. Traveling up the coast was faster and it allowed him some time to recuperate in New York before seeing to the inductment there. Though the merchants that traded between the northern and southern colonies were not ones to waste time and the schooner he traveled by docked well after sunset. Which meant that after an hour long moonlit ride, Haytham arrived home in the middle of the night. Tired, but thankful to be back.

“I’ll get you something to drink, Sir.” Mrs. Milford said when he decided to occupy the large arm chair in the parlor. In truth he probably should have gone straight to bed, but after sailing again so soon it felt wonderful to sit on something plush and padded. And he hoped the stewardess would bring him ale rather than something hot, which she did. The old woman was extremely attentive, having been the steward of another home before he hired her, and she had been anticipating his earlier return since she’d gotten word of his choice to travel by sea. Though that wasn’t the reason she was awake at such a late hour.

“How has Miss Hurley been behaving?” Haytham asked in a sigh after taking a gulp of his drink. Annabeth’s outburst was still fresh in his mind, and his idle time in New York was spent wondering whether or not taking her in would prove to be a mistake.

“The girl’s attitude improved after some decent food and a proper bed. The cook’s tried to show her around the kitchen, but from I’ve heard, Beth is not what you’d consider to be culinarily gifted.”

_Beth_. It seemed that Mr. Foster had been serious about which nicknames the girl allowed people to use. Still, the question remained: Was it a blessing or a curse for the Grand Master that she considered him a friend?

“She hasn’t given you any trouble, I trust.”

“No, nothing I’d call trouble, necessarily. Though there is something that needs to be discussed regarding the child.”

“And what would that be?” No sooner had he finished the question before a blood curdling scream came echoing from from upstairs; making the manor sound more like a house of horrors instead of a peaceful virginian estate. “What the devil?” When the cries continued, Haytham nearly lept out of his chair to run up the stairs with Mrs. Milford hurrying after him. Lit candlestick in hand.

“ _This_ is what we’ve been faced with since she arrived.” The woman explained breathlessly as she tried to keep up with him. “The poor thing keeps having nightmares.”

 

Annabeth wouldn’t say it was the assault against her person that haunted her. Yes, she knew it to be wrong, so many people had said it was. But despite the bruises to her legs and the soreness that had lingered, the violation itself didn’t seem as terrible to her as it did to everyone else.

She has known the gentleman since she was a young girl, and had trusted him for almost as long as she could remember. Simon Wolfe had made education, _proper education_ , available to her and he always made sure she never went without when her parents fell on hard times. He had bought her dresses and carriage rides and school supplies, and even without his money he provided her with happiness. He was a kind man. A good man. Someone she looked up to and admired and loved. And don’t you have sex with a man when you love them?

That’s what her mother had told her once, anyway. When their neighbor had fallen pregnant and Anna curiously asked how babies came to be. Instead of spinning some tale about a bird delivering infants from the sky, Mrs. Hurley had stumbled through as polite and appropriate an explanation as she could manage for her eight year old. Outlining the mechanics of sex as simply and as quickly as possible; and stressing that such a thing only happened between two people in love. 

It was more information than most mothers would give, but the world was changing as the colonies grew, and Olivia saw no protection in hiding such a basic human truth from her daughter. She couldn’t have imagined that Annabeth’s own teacher would use that innocent knowledge in his favor. Twisting the child’s sense of platonic love to serve his own perverted lust.

When it happened, the rape was painful. Which was something Anna clearly remembered _not_ being told. In fact, it hurt nearly enough that she had tried to set her mind on other things, and afterward the whole event felt strange. As if it had happened to someone else and she’d simply watched.

Though it didn’t stop the scene from being familiar to her. The way her skirt was hiked was up and her stockings were pulled down was proof enough of what was happening. Mr. Wolfe was on top of her. Crushing her. Whispering sweet things in her ear. But she couldn’t hear his candied words or feel his weight against her because every time she relived the attack since it’s actual occurrence, it was a dream. Light and airy and shrouded and far away. Hazier than when she had actually experienced it. Until she looked away from him.

The moment her subconscious dared lose interest in her abuser, Annabeth was accosted by the sight of Rowan and her father. Bloody and beaten. _Dead_. With their faces mangled and their limbs crooked; and that’s when she could feel the man on top of her. Turning her foggy dream into a nightmare. 

Such a sudden shift in perspective was agonizing, and it didn’t allow her any reprieve from the trauma inflicted upon her body. The man was _so_ heavy and her body _hurt_ , and she screamed at him to stop. Not knowing whether or not she had done so during the actual incident. 

She couldn’t even bear to look at him, which meant the corpses of her loved ones filled her view, and she wailed louder. Shouting at the carcasses to get away from her. Hollering to drown out the new and evil words that poured from her tutor’s lips. Words she could hear.

They were mean and wicked taunts about how she could’ve saved her brother and father had she just kept their secret. He lectured her about how he’d spent enough money on her to _own_ her, and when she could finally will herself to face him again, he was gone. She was still held down but the man’s body was gone. There was nothing but a shadow with icy blue eyes that taunted her as she fought against invisible bonds and screamed to drown out the lecherous way it said her name. The name _she_ had told him to her call by once upon a time. Back when he was a good man. A kind man. 

_“Anna.”_ It slipped from the shadow’s tongue like poison. _“Annabeth… Anna…”_

 

“Anna! Annabeth wake up!”

When her eyes finally snapped open it was Haytham who gripped on her, not the creature that haunted the space behind her eyelids. He had seized her shoulders and shaken her, and as Anna began to understand that she was awake, she also began to tremble.

The first night in the manor she had been too exhausted from self-induced stress to dream, but each evening thereafter the girl was met with the same nightly Hell. It was similar to the one she’d suffered from while aboard the _Venus_ , but worse. And it was provoked by her introduction to Charles Lee. That man’s eyes were the same unearthly shade as her instructor’s, and Annabeth feared she’d never free from Mr. Wolfe’s phantom.

“Are you alright?” Haytham asked when it was clear that she recognized her surroundings, though she still hadn’t said anything and her face was eerily pale against her lingering sunburn. Both of which concerned him.

His question released a flood and Anna practically flung herself against him in heavy sobs when her brain processed what he’d said. She was most definitely _not_ alright. 

With a scared and sorrowful teenager crying against his shoulder, the templar was once again faced with the reality that he didn’t know what to do. Kenway could command spies and orchestrate infiltrations, but many points on the wide spectrum of human emotion were foreign to him. Like a language he never learned. He had been raised as a fatherless soldier with no time for such tender matters.

As such, it felt rather bizarre when his arms wound around Annabeth in a hug. Assuring her of his presence. She had already been clinging to him and some unnamable instinct within the man wanted her to feel safe. So even if the embrace seemed awkward, he knew it was the right thing to do. Haytham had no way of knowing that the innate desire to protect her went beyond chasing away bad dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And in this chapter we explore the mental trauma one can experience after an assault.  
> If you thought I was going to be nice to Annabeth just because she's 14, then I apologize.  
> <3


	6. Associates

The man standing before Annabeth was tall and rugged with his dark brown hair pulled back and a scar across his right eye. In many ways he was terrifying, looking so much like a ruffian, but it was refreshing to able to determine how much of a threat someone was just by looking at them. Whereas Haytham’s fighting abilities at sea had taken her by surprise due to his gentlemanly demeanor, everything about the black and red clad stranger screamed _dangerous_.

Anna had been in Virginia for over a month already and her nightmares had yet to cease. The lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll, and Haytham, as well as others in the house, noticed how she’d look over her shoulder when the stairs creaked or when a candle flickered out. There was nothing for her to be afraid of but she was terrified; and what bothered the Grand Master most was that he had no idea what it _was_ that frightened her. The atrocities haunting her at night were still a mystery to him, and it was unsettling.

It would be a lie for him to say that he hadn’t taken a certain liking to the girl over the past weeks. When she wasn’t jumping out of her skin, she was bright and inquisitive, and more often than not she’d find a book he’d left around and ask him about it. Showing great interest in things beyond domestic work. In return, Haytham found himself wanting for her own happiness. That is, a life free from fear. And he had just the plan to help her feel safe. 

“This is Captain Cormac.” The Templar leader explained when the girl found her way to the parlor after Mrs. Milford instructed her to go there. “He’s an associate of mine.”

Anna was learning that Haytham had many _associates_ , more were expected to arrive in a few hours in fact, and she was growing increasingly curious as to what his profession was. Still, when the sailor offered a shallow bow at the waist, she did the same in a curtsey.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cormac.”

“The pleasure’s mine, Miss Hurley, but please, call me Shay.”

It should have unsettled her that the man already knew her name, but a smile broke out across her face when he spoke. Anna may have hailed from London but her family was Irish, something that was proven by the occasional hitch in her usual ‘proper’ accent, and having one of her countrymen around reminded her of home.

“I _am_ still looking for a tutor for you, Anna.” Haytham promised. “But in the meantime I’ve asked Mr. Cormac here to give you supplementary lessons, of sorts. In hopes of helping you adjust.”

The explanation erased the girl’s smile and her brows pulled together. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m here to teach you how to look after yourself, lass.”

She was only more confused by the other man’s clarification. “I _still_ don’t understand. Has something happened?”

With a sigh the Grand Master stepped away from his friend and toward her. “Nothing’s _happened_ , Anna, but your nightmares have not gotten any better and-”

“I can’t control my damned dreams.” She blurted and he ignored it.

“And I’m hoping that what Shay teaches you might give you some peace of mind.” It didn’t go unnoticed by Annabeth how considerate the offer was and she merely nodded in understanding and acceptance. “Very good.” Haytham turned to the seaman again. “You’re free to use the grounds as you see fit just do keep an eye on her. I have some things to see to before the others arrive.” He mused before giving a faint encouraging squeeze to Anna’s shoulder and leaving them to it.

The first weapon Shay decided to go over with her was guns. Pistols namely. He never mentored anyone before and firearms seemed like an easy enough place to start. Shoot, reload, repeat. Simple. And it was the second of those three steps that Anna was supposed to be practicing when a muffled sound behind her caught her attention.

“Haytham has knives like those.” She said after turning to see Shay mindlessly projecting and sheathing his hidden blades. The way the sharp point sprung from his sleeve directly mirrored how Kenway had killed the pirate during their crossing, and Anna was glad to know it wasn’t something she imagined.

Shay, however, was at a minor loss for words. The Grand Master had explicitly explained to him that she had no knowledge of Assassins or Templars, so why was she familiar with an Assassin’s signature weapon and how was he supposed to explain to her the reason they both had a pair? 

“I’m sure he does.” Was what he eventually decided to say. Overlooking how casually she regarded the Templar leader. He could already tell that whatever relationship there was between the two Virginians was more than a simple employee-employer accord. If Annabeth was a mere scullery maid, Haytham wouldn't have asked for his help with her in the first place. “They come in quite handy against thieves and would-be attackers.”

“How do they work?”

It wasn’t the lesson he planned on giving her, but the ex-assassin rolled up his left sleeve all the same to show her the device. He pointed out that they were spring loaded and demonstrated how the blade was controlled with the ring finger. All while she watched with rapt attention. Immediately enamored by the peculiar gadget.

“I want to learn how to use _those_.” She nearly sang after the round of show and tell, and Shay managed a short and nervous chuckle. He’d told the Grand Master there would be no problem teaching her some moderate self defense, but Annabeth was more than he bargained for.

“Maybe some other time. How about we stick to the guns for now?” 

Thankfully, she didn’t push it, and after a few tries she could land a bullet with more accuracy than predicted. She wasn’t perfect, but for a girl who’d never held a gun before, Anna was damned impressive.

 

“How’d she do?” Were the first words out of Haytham’s mouth once Annabeth had gone to clean herself up after Shay’s lesson with her; and the sailor shrugged while leaning against the wall. 

“Fine I guess. She can mostly shoot now, but are you sure she doesn’t know _anything_ about the Order or the Brotherhood?”

“Why do you ask?”

Shay let his hidden blade free for a moment. “She recognized them. Well, recognized mine to be the same as yours, more like. Asked me to show her how to use them.”

“And did you?”

“I reckoned it was up to you whether or not I did, Master Kenway. She’s _your_ charge after all.”

“Yes, I suppose she is.” He half mumbled, thankful when a knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Shay calling Anna his _charge_ put a pit in his stomach. It meant the girl was his responsibility. Which Haytham supposed she already was, especially seeing how he’d taken such an interest in her education and well being, but having someone _else_ speak it aloud made it more official. More solid. 

Fortunately, drowning himself in Templar business was enough to remedy any lingering uneasiness he felt about taking Annabeth under his wing, and the knock at the door was a sign that more members of the Order had arrived. Thomas Hickey and William Johnson specifically, if the cockney insist of ‘Just open the bloody door, Bill.’ was any hint to go by.

 

“Charles will join us soon and then we’ll get things underway.” Haytham mused once they’d all migrated to the drawing room. “He’s just finishing up some important paperwork.”

“Chuck’s always got papers to sign and send out.” Thomas said as he propped his feet up on the coffee table. Only to remove them after receiving a stern look from the Grand Master.

“That he does. But unless _you_ would prefer to be the one signing and sending those papers, Mr. Hickey, I’d advise you not complain about it.”

Charles had, somehow, wound up as the Rite’s unofficial Quartermaster and while he seemed to like the job, it was never done. There was always properties that needed tending to or allies that needed weapons. A never ending flow of requests or necessities. But everyone agreed that Mr. Lee did it better than anyone else could.

Thomas shook his head and nodded to the entryway of the room. “No thanks. I’m more interested in the mouse you’ve found yourself with.” 

Following the younger Templar’s line of sight, Haytham managed to see Annabeth just as she ducked out of sight and he rolled his tongue in his cheek in thought. He should have figured she’d come poking about to some degree. The girl was curious to a fault.

“ _That_ would be Miss Hurley.” His plain announcement of her presence gave Anna no choice but to round the corner once again and step into the large sitting room. Taking up a place at the Grand Master’s side. “This is Thomas Hickey. Another associate of mine.” He motioned to the young man and the girl clicked her tongue within her mouth. There was that word again. _Associate_. It made the lot of them sound like a shadow organization. “And I trust you know Bill.”

“This is the first we’ve met actually.” Anna clarified but smiled familiarly at the man. “Though your help was very much appreciated, Mr. Johnson. Thank you.”

Haytham looked between the two with a curious expression and William cleared his throat. “I was friends with her parents back before they left for London.” The explanation was exceedingly vague but it seemed sufficient enough for the moment and Haytham nodded in acceptance before sending the girl on her way.

 

The evening proved itself a long one for Anna. She had attempted to help the cook in the kitchen but was shooed out before being able to offer any true assistance. No matter what she tried, the teen just couldn’t make herself food-savvy and she usually managed to burn one thing while undercooking another. With four extra men to feed for the night, the small kitchen staff was busy enough already and no one had the time to babysit her. So she ended up wandering around the house in exploration. 

It didn’t matter how many times she went down the same hallway, there was always something to marvel at in the aristocratic manor. Whether it was how spacious the corridors were or how the polished floor gleamed under the sunlight, everything about it was beautiful, and it wasn’t the first time she found herself admiring the sunset from the large upstairs balcony.

It _was_ , however, the first time Mrs. Milford found her to tell her that the servants had the rest of the night off and she could do what she liked so long as it it didn’t ‘disturb Master Kenway and his guests.’ Honestly, Annabeth didn’t understand everyone’s obsession with the title. Haytham had money, sure; but that didn’t really make him anything special. Plenty of people in the world had money. Regardless, she did as asked and chose to eat supper in her room. Keeping away from whatever mysterious meeting was being conducted downstairs.

A meeting that became heated, as it turned out. None of the men were angry so much as they were frustrated. Particularly Shay, after Charles said he’d need the sailor to make a delivery up the coast. The assassin-hunter did not enjoy being a delivery boy.

“Even if I _did_ have the time to transport it, it wouldn’t get there as fast as you want.” He barked. “The _Morrigan_ ’s fast but she’s not fuckin’ magic!”

“Then have another ship in your fleet see to it. But these documents can’t be left in the hands of some dimwitted courier.”

“Gentlemen, please.” Haytham huffed while pinching the bridge of his nose. “There is bound to be an amiable solution if the two of you would reign in your tempers.” The Grand Master waited a moment for both men to calm down before looking over the laid out map once again and just as he was about to open his mouth to speak, a shrieking cry turned his unspoken words into a sigh. “My apologies. Excuse me for a moment.”

Haytham had thought is still too early for Anna to be asleep, but apparently he was wrong, and the sound left the other Templars looking mildly alarmed. Save for Charles who crossed his arms with an huff.

“It appears _that_ will be a common occurrence.” He said in clear displeasure after the Grand Master vacated the room. Having arrived the day before, Lee was forced to undergo the nightly interruption once already, and hearing the echoing scream while fully conscious was no less troublesome than having it stir him from his sleep.

“Was that Miss Hurley?” Shay asked and the mustachioed Templar nodded. Earning a scoff from the Irishman. “Cut her some slack, Lee, she’s just a child.”

Thomas Hickey lounged back in his chair and inspected the half-empty tankard before him. “A child that makes Haytham Kenway abandon a meetin’.” He pointed out and no one said anything further regarding the observation. They’d all seen it. They’d all noticed. But none of them were going to question it. At least not to their leader’s face. “Maybe she’s _his_ child.”

“Ha! Right! And I’m a potato under this coat.” Shay bit back sarcastically. “The lass is far too old to be his daughter.”

“And she’s too young to rightly be anythin’ else.” Hickey’s underhanded accusation set the others on edge but he seemed not to notice as he finished his ale. “Come on, Bill. You said you knew her mum. Spill the beans, what’s the story with the girl?”

“I’m in the dark as much you lot, I’m afraid. Her mother wrote me out of the blue one day saying there was trouble and the little Miss wasn’t safe. I knew Master Kenway was back in England so I suggested she look him up. We _are_ supposed to be helping people, you know? The greater good, and all that.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic. If I don’t get a lick of sleep tonight I’m comin’ after you.” Thomas groaned and flopped his head back. “The dear old Gran’ Master’s got a screaming kid cuz of your bleedin’ heart.”

“I have a terrified young woman in my home because I agreed to take her in.” Haytham clarified as he rejoined them, and the men around the dining table quickly regathered themselves. Annabeth’s nightmares hadn’t stopped, but she was far easier to consol now, and he had returned sooner than anyone expected. “And if it’s alright with you, men, we have far more pressing matters to discuss than Miss Hurley. So let’s get back to it, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charles is as salty as the Atlantic and I love it. Almost as much as I love you guys reading this story. You have no idea how happy I am that you bunch like Annabeth giving Haytham & Co a run for their money. <3 <3 <3


	7. Freudian Slip

Haytham’s office was not some mysterious inner sanctum from which Annabeth was banned. In fact, she’d been in it it before. Though always when he was sat at his desk and never when his _associates_ were around, and standing in the doorway of the empty study seemed taboo. The stacks of books and maps and parchment leant a seriousness to the room which the rest of the house failed to posses. Without Haytham there to invite her in, it felt like a tomb of secrets. But she stepped in all the same. Surely it wasn’t snooping if the thing she was looking for didn't belong there in the first place.

With Misters Cormac, Johnson, Hickey, and Lee still lingering around for several days after their initial arrivals, she was left mostly on her own. Haytham was too busy with _whatever it was_ they were always talking about, and the house staff was frantic to care for the guests. Leaving Anna to seek out company from the few non-humans on the property. Namely the small litter of kittens that were born just before her arrival. 

She’d been told countless times not to bring any of them in the house, but with her sponsor too preoccupied to notice otherwise, she figured what he didn’t know wouldn't hurt him. And it was her favorite which she smuggled indoors. A fluffy little gray thing splotched with white and whose fur was soft as silk. However, it was also a feisty creature and it only took a minute of lapsed attention before it was bounding down the hall. Out of sight by the time Annabeth rounded the corner after it. The office was the only room in that corridor with an ajar door, so it seemed like the obvious place to look. Though she quickly realized that the search may not be as easy as anticipated.

Bookcases. Chests. Curtains. There were so many places the little animal could have squeezed itself into, and she opted to check under the desk first. Grumbling to herself when it wasn’t there. Searching the drapes next, she gave them a light shake in hopes of either to find the kitten behind the fabric or climbing up it, when the sound of approaching footsteps sent her whirling around to face the semi-open door. But it was only a maid who passed. And the woman didn’t even notice her.

Though the speed of her turn had agitated the still air, and a paper rode the synthetic breeze from the desk to the floor. The wisest option was to put it back. Despite how much stuff the office contained, everything was neat and ordered; and Haytham would certainly notice if his files were out of place. Only after picking it up did Anna realize that she had no idea which stack it belonged to. There were four or so pristine piles on the desk and it would be a gamble to just blindly choose one, so she quickly skimmed the contents looking for some clue as to where to place it.

The paper was not an invoice or anorder form like she expected it to be. Instead it was a letter addressed to the title of ‘Grand Master.’ Contained within it were the words ‘Assassin’ and ‘Brotherhood’ and ‘Templar’, and it made her confused. Rather than putting it back and and leaving it alone like she knew she should have, the girl read on. Looking for clarity. Searching for an explanation as to what it was Haytham did for a living and wanting answers about the company he kept. The company that, by extension, she also kept.

Annabeth was so engrossed in decoding the plain, yet strangely worded English, that she didn’t hear the men’s voices coming up the stairs or the footfalls edging closer. And when the door squeaked open further, prompting her to finally look up, it was Charles she was faced with.

The Templar bookkeeper was as surprised to see Anna as she was to see him, and he lingered in the doorway. Quiet and unmoving despite the questions swirling around in his head. _Why was the girl in Haytham’s office? Why was the girl wearing trousers? Why did she look more afraid of him than of being caught?_

It would be a lie to say he didn’t notice the way she avoided him. Anna’s lessons with Shay were not a secret and Cormac was certainly a people-person, so it was no surprise she got along with the ex-Assassin, but it wasn’t just the sailor she was friendly with. In the moments he could spare, William would tell her stories of Ireland, and the girl would listen like she was bewitched. Desperate to know about the homeland she’d never visit. Eyes green and rich as the hills her mother grew up on.

Even in passing, she’d jest with Thomas. Proving to them all how she could hold her own in their world, or at least in their conversation. She had no problem matching the young man’s vulgarity. Not caring if it earned them both a scolding from her sponsor. Hickey for speaking so crudely around a lady, and her for not acting like a lady at all. But in all their years together Charles never heard the Grand Master chastise someone as kindly as he did the girl.

With Annabeth there were no hard glances or gruff tones. The recognizable threat in Haytham’s voice fled when he spoke to her, and the only thing that remained was a subdued sternness. An authority she respected yet clearly didn’t cower under because she glued herself to his side whenever it was allowed; and he almost always allowed it. _That_ was something Charles didn’t understand.

He couldn’t comprehend why someone as powerful and influential as Haytham Kenway would indulge a child. He didn’t know why she sought out the company of everyone except himself. She would sit and talk with Shay, and William, and Thomas, and she would nearly force herself into the Grand Master’s attention, but she stayed away from him. Always scurrying the opposite direction when they shared a hallway. Always keeping her distance.

Anna’s admiration for the others was as strong as her dislike toward Charles, and he thought it was because of his lack of effort. The man found no reason to go out of his way to befriend some teenager. He never cared enough to show an interest in her life. Though looking at her from across Haytham’s office _made_ him care. For the first time, he saw how little she hated him and how scared she was instead. 

“It’s right on top, there, Charles.” Haytham’s voice came from behind him, somewhere in the hall, and Annabeth’s eyes softened if not a fraction. “What is- Oh.” Stepping up behind his second in command, the Grand Master looked over Lee’s shoulder too see the pair staring at each other and his lips pressed into a thin line. He too, had noticed the girl’s distaste toward his friend and, in some ways, Charles’ own silent disapproval of her as well. “Right.”

Politely pushing past the man clogging the doorway, Haytham stepped into his office and perused the neat stacks on his desk. Looking for what they’d come for. “It should be…” His voice trailed off as he searched, and he frowned. The letter about Assassin activity in New York had been there earlier and it surely didn't just get up and walk away. 

He didn't even notice the paper in Anna’s hands until she held it out to him, and he tilted his head to read it over when she did. “...This one, actually.” He finished before taking it from her and passing it to Charles. “Give Miss Hurley and I moment alone, would you please?” As expected, Lee did as instructed and closed the door in his wake. Leaving his boss to deal with their impromptu spy. “Care to explain what you’re doing in here?”

His words weren’t nearly as accusatory as she was expecting, and it _did_ cross her mind to make up an excuse for the intrusion. However every fib Annabeth thought of was worse than the truth. “I was looking for the cat.”

“Cat?” Haytham was sure he looked like a perturbed parent in that moment more than ever before. The hands that were clasped behind his back released their immaculate posture so that one could come to scrub itself along his and ease any stress from his mansible before it could take root. “Surely you don’t mean the ball of fuzz you’ve been going on about.” He exhaled sharply at her guilty half-smile. “It is feral, Anna. Its mother is feral. It cannot be in the house. I’ve told you that before.”

“Well I wouldn’t’ve brought it into the house if I had actual people to spend time with.” She argued and lifted her arm in a gesture to the closed door. “When is he leaving, anyhow?”

 _“He?”_ Anna mentally kicked herself at the man's clarification. She meant to say ‘they’. 

She meant to hide her unhappiness with Lee’s presence by pretending to be angry at the amount of company in general. It would be easier to tell Haytham that she missed a quiet house than it would be to explain to him how she hated the man acting as his shadow. But the time for that masquerade had passed.

“Mr. Lee is grim.” She said, trying to recover from her slip of the tongue. “The others are light hearted, and friendly. He is not.” 

“I agree the man can be dreadfully serious, but is it really his lack of joviality that makes you afraid of him?” Annabeth didn’t realize she’d done such a bad job keeping her terror to herself, and the question made her look away. Drawing a sigh from the Grand Master in return. “You _can_ talk to me about such things, you know.” He pressed. “It’s my job to look after you.”

The sentiment was meant sweetly and it escaped his mouth in kind, but Anna’s ears interpreted it incorrectly and she flinched. “Just a job…” She repeated in a scoff and Haytham’s brows pulled together.

“Come along now, you know I don’t mean it like that.” The man couldn’t believe the words rolling off his tongue. “Your happiness is important to me.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and the action coaxed her to look at him once again. “Shay is heading into town soon, and it would do you some good to get out of the house for a few hours. I’m sure he’d have no problem bringing you along.” After she silently accepted the offer with a nod he removed his hand and stepped back to look over her outfit. “Perhaps you’d like to change first?”

She glanced down at the blouse and trouser ensemble she’d picked for the day with a shrug. “It’s easier to ride this way. Though before I go I really should find-”

“What in high heaven!?” A yell from the hallway instantly sidetracked them both and Haytham was the first one to make it to the door and throw it open. Only to stifle a laugh at what he found.

“I think someone found your fuzzball.” He snickered, and the girl joined his side before breaking into a fit of soft giggles.

Watching Charles trying to shake off the determined kitten scaling the side of his trousers was the funniest thing she’d ever seen; and in that single, fleeting moment she found herself unafraid when the man looked her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: "Charles Lee freaks me out. He's my least favorite AC character." *proceeds to put him in a shit-ton of scenes and then care about his feelings*


	8. Truth Be Told

Annabeth was thrilled to be on a ship again even if she was explicitly forbidden from going aloft. An instruction she didn’t even argue with after being so excited to join in on the travels. It was Haytham’s third trip to New York since her arrival, and she couldn’t bare to be left at the manor by herself again. Granted, Mrs. Milford was always checking up on her, and the relatively new tutor, Miss Hobbs, kept her busy during the day, but the girl found herself lonely when he wasn’t around. 

In his absence, there was no one to talk to about her musings of the world. Or anything beyond the property for that matter. It was either schooling or chores. Neither of which compared to reading about far off lands and asking Haytham about them. An activity that often led him to reveal he’d been many, _many_ , places. And no doubt that was half the reason she pressed to tag along. With her own sense of security in the colonies found, Anna wanted to see as much of them as she could. However she expected the voyage to be far more enjoyable.

Gilded in metal and with red sails, _The Morrigan_ was something out of a fairy tale, yet the journey proved dull. They told her it would be a short trip but much to her dismay, Shay and the Grand Master mostly locked themselves in the captain’s cabin, and her along with them. Haytham didn’t trust her not to shimmy up the mast at the first lapse in supervision.

Their usual hushed conversations over mysterious documents left her to her own limited devices, and after examining the naval atlas for the fifth time she asked a long-coming question. Though more out of an unwaning curiosity than boredom.

“What are Templars?”

It was almost disappointing when Haytham didn’t seem as taken aback as Shay. They both looked up from their work exceptionally fast, but the navy-clad gentleman regarded her flatly, and she tilted her head to the left as if to punctuate her interest. 

It made sense for him to be unimpressed by every curious or outlandish thing that came out of her mouth. The Lord above knew she’d asked enough crazy questions over the months to beat the shock out of him, and he was clearly in charge of whatever little club the men had going on. No one could be a good commander without a properly steeled expression. She simply wasn’t use to him using it on her.

Haytham’s composure was for the best, because as the three of them stood in momentary silence the Irishman looked more and more stressed. Were it up to him, Shay would have told Anna about the Order weeks ago. In his eyes it wasn’t fair to leave someone, who was quite literally under Templar care, in the dark. She’d befriended most of them and deserved to know the truth. But it wasn't his decision to make, and he ended up muttering something about being needed at the helm. Leaving his superior to choose how, and _if_ the topic should be breached.

“Templars?” Haytham repeated once Shay made his hasty exit and he turned to face her fully while leaning back against the desk. The new casual atmosphere had Anna hopping up to sit on the map-bearing table.

“Yes, Templars. And Assassins. And what’s a Grand Master?”

“You’ve heard these terms before I take it?”

The girl thought it unfair of him to keep answering her questions with his own, and she gave an impatient half-nod. “I read about them in a letter. The time Mr. Lee found me in your office…” She trailed off as if to jog his memory. Not that it was necessary.

He remembered the incident quite clearly, as well as the letter in question. It was the reason for his previous trip north and he’d hoped whatever she might have read slipped her mind. Though that was clearly wishful thinking. Having her confess to knowing even the names of the institutions meant he couldn’t keep it from her any longer. Especially if she’d been sitting on that information since June.

It was already September, and for weeks his men suggested that it was best for her to know how the world truly worked. Even Charles said she should know about the business they conducted. While the others viewed it as the girl’s enlightenment, Lee suspected she might be less abrasive toward their meetings if she knew the importance of what they did. Which Haytham knew would not be the case. Yes, getting things done with a teenager mucking about did cause some hurdles. But there would be even more if she showed an interest in what they did. An excuse they all seemed to find acceptable.

Still, it was Annabeth herself that had prevented the Grand Master from simply disclosing the Assassin-Templar situation. She was just a girl. _A child_. Fourteen was far too young to be subjected to such knowledge, and yet there she was giving him no other choice. So without the chance to determine if that moment was the right time to reveal the group's identity, he did.

He told her about the Assassin’s and how their longing for peace became disfigured over the ages; explaining that their new goal was not merely freedom, but blind freedom. The kind that led to chaos. He also assured that the Templar’s didn’t desire totalitarianism but rather unity on a global scale. All while stressing the dangers of the Brotherhood and pointing out the conflict between both groups.

The more he spoke the more interested she became, and the girl’s legs swung back and forth metronomically as if they were pumping the information through her. She never grew frightful or uncomfortable like Haytham feared. Both were understandable reactions to discovering that the world was essentially run by shadow organizations, but she was as calm as he’d ever seen her. And when he finished, she slid off the table to address the one question he failed to answer.

“So what’s a Grand Master, then?” 

_Of course_ she was caught up on trivialities after being told one of history’s best-kept secrets. 

“A Grand Master is the leader of each Rite, each branch of the Templar Order.” He saw the wheels in her head turning at the clarification.

“And you’re the leader here, in the Colonies?”

“The Colonial Rite, yes.”

There was a split second of pondering silence before she burst into a fit of laughter. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard!” She howled while doubling over and he frowned.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone doubted the existence of the warring factions, but he never expected her to treat it so comically. “I beg your pardon?”

“Grand Master Kenway.” Anna managed properly before falling back into her giggles. “Could it sound anymore posh?”

The man couldn’t recall a time when he felt so insulted and his frown turned into a scowl as the cabin door opened. “What is it Shay?” He snapped and Cormac’s face contorted in confusion.

“We’re nearly there.”

Haytham hissed out a bitter ‘Thank God’ when he practically stormed out and after being left with a still-laughing teenager, Shay thought that maybe he _should_ have stayed for the conversation.

 

It wasn’t long after they docked that Annabeth apologized to her sponsor, and she was thankful that he accepted the olive branch. Equally grateful that she waited until Haytham was significantly less perturbed. While watching him behave so sourly _had_ made her feel guilty, it also seemed like he made a mountain out of a molehill.

The laughter hadn’t been on purpose, and it certainly wasn't directed at him. Well, maybe it was, but not for the most part. If anything she found the title itself to be absolutely ridiculous. It sounded absurd no matter whose name was used. Grand Master Johnson. Grand Master Cormac. Grand Master Hurley. Just reeling them through her mind had the girl stifling laughs. Though she did wonder if a woman would be considered Grand Mistress instead. Delving even further, she silently questioned whether women were allowed to climb rank at all. That being if they were even permitted to join the Order in the first place.

Goofiness and possible gender restrictions aside, she decided that ‘Grand Master Kenway’ _did_ sound far better than any other options his troop presented, and it fit him better as well. Even though the regality of the honorific was what made it sound so pompous, there was power behind it, and Haytham had the type of palpable control that gave the label sharpness.

However not even the Grand Master could command away inquisitiveness and it was only a matter of time before she had more questions. Especially with New York fueling her imagination. 

The city was bustling and crowded in ways that the Virginian estate would never be, and as such she was confined to the grounds of Fort Arsenal. If not for her own safety, then certainly for Haytham’s peace of mind. Having her accompany him on the trip meant that every aspect of her care fell to the Templars themselves, since the base of operations couldn’t spare the extra staff needed to chase after a wild-eyed teenager. 

Even if the personnel had been available, it was unlikely she would have allowed to spend too much time with whoever was tasked with nannying her. The servants there weren’t exactly what Haytham would call upstanding. 

In the end, it meant that Anna spent more time around the gaggle of men than ever before, and it was surprising that she waited until the _second_ evening of their stay before delving in further. Asking the group if they’d always been Templars earned some unsuspecting looks from around the dining table.

“So the girl knows about that then.” Thomas muttered against the unnecessary quietness that surrounded her question and she threw him an offended look.

“Yes, _the girl_ does.” She sassed the young Templar across from her. “She’s also sitting right in front of you, Hickey.” A kick under the table accented her point, and if Haytham noticed the way his ward was accosting his footsoldier then he said nothing about it.

“It _is_ rude to talk about a lady whilst she’s in the room.” Kenway reminded with half a smirk. Anna was amazed with how spirited he could be sometimes and she adored his less-serious side. “However, seeing as you have such a loose tongue, Thomas, perhaps you’d like to be the first to answer Miss Hurley’s question?” 

There wasn’t any additional prompting needing before the topic was passed around the table. Much in the way students would introduce themselves to a class, each Templar told of the events that led them to the Order; and Haytham found he favored such a method of information sharing. 

He hadn’t kept Annabeth’s newfound knowledge from his subordinates because they didn’t deserve to know she knew, but because he didn’t want them to tell her too much. The girl was not a member of the Rite. It was better if she looked for answers rather than having them shoved down her throat. Though judging by the way she paid attention to the men’s stories, Haytham knew it was only a matter of time before she uncovered the more unsavory aspects of their work.

Thomas and William had similar reports of how chance, timing, and their own necessity to the cause had them joining the secret society. Johnson’s extensive land ownership and his rapport with the natives made him invaluable. As did Hickey’s ties to the military, not to mention his ability to blend in with the masses. But while William spoke about his desire for the greater good and peace between peoples, the younger insisted that material gain was his own driving force. Money _was_ a motivator, but Anna suspected that Thomas revered the Order more than he let on. 

Unlike the relaxed and somewhat breezy stories of his counterparts, Charles was the one to give a speech about his military career and his time under General Braddock; which ultimately led to his own discovery of the Templars and their cause. He had far more passion about it than either William or Thomas seemed to, and it made Anna interested in what he had to say, but she kept finding herself distracted. Whether it was by picking at the food on her plate or playing with the hem of her clothes — And she absolutely _never_ looked at him. Lee still made her uncomfortable. His _eyes_ still made her uncomfortable.

After Charles finished his autobiography, however, Shay was notably skipped over and Haytham added in his own snippet of personal information. Which proved to be a fleeting recollection about devoting himself to the Templar mission while in his youth. He chose to omit most of his history in favor of answering her question and nothing more. The others found the Order during their adulthoods, but he was introduced to it from such an early age that he may as well have been born into it. That was all she needed to know.

Still, the fleeting glimpse into his past didn’t erase Anna’s interest in Shay’s background, and she had half a mind to press the matter. Though the way the conversation set the sailor on edge made her decide against it. Instead, she convinced him to take her shooting once the meal concluded; luring him away from the others.

When she did continue the dinner-side interrogation between shots, Shay sighed. The redhead was known for being persistent and he knew there would be no escaping the question. But that didn’t make it any easier.

“No, I wasn’t always with the Templars.” He said simply and she shrugged while aiming the pistol. “I used to be an Assassin.”

“What?!” Annabeth’s squawk of surprise was muffled by the blast of gunpowder. His confession had stolen her focus and it meant she missed her target. Therefore sending the bullet toward the nearby stone wall and prompting Shay to relieve her of the firearm. This wasn’t the type of passive chit-chat people could engage in during target practice. “Isn’t that the equivalent of a religious conversion?”

The captain chuckled lightly at her comparison while holstering the gun. He was so used to her brazen behavior that sometimes her sophistication slipped his mind. She certainly had Haytham’s vocabulary. “Aye, I guess it’s sort of the same thing.”

“So then why did you switch sides?”

It wasn’t the further questioning that shook him, but rather the innocence of it. So many fellow Templars asked him the same thing over and over, and it was always with accusation. They worried he might be an Assassin spy or that his loyalties were too loosely defined, but the girl sounded so passive about it. She wasn’t concerned with the possibility of a turn coat, and when she noticed his unease she began to back peddle. “I’m sorry, it’s not really my business.” 

“You’ve got every right to know.” He corrected and rubbed the back of his neck while taking a minute to gather his thoughts. “I can’t tell you whether or not the Assassin’s are good or bad on their own as people, but as a group they're trouble. They’re messin’ with things they don’t understand — Things _nobody_ understands. And it could wreck the world. I’ve seen firsthand what kind of damage they can do, and it’s damned awful. I joined the Order to make sure they don’t get the chance to hurt anymore innocents.”

Watching her absorb what little information he gave granted Shay a new feeling of responsibility. After what happened in Portugal he swore to save the word from ruin, but the world was a big place and Anna was _right there_. Standing in front of him and accepting his truth without so much as a hint of doubt.

Even when Haytham welcomed him with open arms there was still doubt towards his position within the Order. “I trust you won’t disappoint,” the Grand Master had said when they first met, leaving the possibility in the air like a warning. Shay knew that if he asked, Kenway would only praise his work, but the threat of not being ‘Templar enough’ haunted him. 

Anna was a reprieve from that burden. His lessons with her awakened a friendship that he wasn’t accustomed to. One that lacked berating criticism and blind faith. She not only admired his skill, but _wanted_ to learn from him. Being seen as an individual, rather than a cog in some great machine, was inspiring to say the least; and Shay understood why Haytham was so fond of the girl. She gave the gift of purpose beyond the Order.

More and more he found himself wanting to prevent chaos, not simply for the masses, but for Annabeth _specifically_. He didn't want her to experience the destruction he witnessed in Lisbon. Nor could he stand to imagine that level of fear scrawled across her face. She was too good for that kind of pain. If he couldn’t stop the Assassin’s for the greater population, then he’d stop them for _her_. Whether she knew she was his motivation or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter ended up way longer than I expected, but that's okay. Especially since it ended up to be more than a simple filler plot-furthering chunk. I like to imagine that there are some minute Shay feels in there.
> 
> As stated in the chapter, the story skipped forward a few months, and honestly, get ready for more of that. In a good way, though, I promise! She's still 14 here and the more interesting stuff happens when she's 16+. 
> 
> So stick with me guys, because I'm freaking thrilled that you've liked this story so far! <3


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